the room. Each segment of the hand-carved pieces of furniture is of the highest-quality ebony wood, with twenty-three-karat gold leaf."
Immediately she felt like the only proper thing to do would be to go down on one knee, not due to the involuntary effect of the vertigo, but as a salute or gesture of respect. However, the guide's presence seemed to prevent her from doing that just yet. That was something she needed to do in private. She knew it, although wasn't exactly sure why, but she was prone to follow her gut at this point.
Growing deeply concerned as his gaze fixed just above the Lesser of Three Lights Altar toward the ceiling, she was overcome by a nuance in the odd sensations she was experiencing.
A distant buzzing in her ears began to increase in tempo and volume, making her dizzy. As the tour guide spoke, she half-collapsed, half-sat down on one of the side benches to regain her bearings.
"This is Hathor, above the main grand master's throne. She was considered goddess of wisdom and fertility, often represented with a cow's head and a woman's body. Note the ceiling fresco of twenty-three-karat gold rays emanating from the sun and holding the sacred Ankh fertility symbol out before her. Here she has been depicted-as in only one of the main Egyptian temples-with a woman's face, but cow ears to represent her considerable ability to hear that which is not being said-a foundation trait of wisdom."
It was like looking in a time-distorted mirror. The rounded, heart-shaped face, skin coloring, eyes... coiled hair. Damali's vision momentarily blurred from tears of distant recognition. Indecipherable memories began to slam into her brain in spontaneous flashes, and soon the buzzing sounds evolved into what she perceived to be the low resonance of old men's voices chanting. Unnerved, she stood and slipped outside of the room away from the vibrations, unable to listen to the tour guide and the voices in her head at the same time.
"You should see it all, and then come back to this room," the guide said, offering her his elbow.
She was slow to touch his arm, not sure why, but she wasn't too sure of a lot of things. He seemed to understand her hesitation, however, and took it in gracious stride as they walked in silence. What she'd just experienced defied words or explanation. Yet, she had no vocabulary to quickly pose a question. Too much was running through her mind just now. The silence suited her better.
When they approached the grand foyer, the tour guide described the architectural feat of the skylighting eighty-feet above them, and she watched with tears in her eyes as the man shut off the power to let the sun filter through. Tiny stars in the man-made constellation had been cut into the granite surface, which allowed one to walk among the stars on a Carrara marble floor.
"Concluding our tour," her guide quipped enthusiastically, "is our main entrance, which remains closed by day to the general public. Between five o'clock and five-thirty P.M., we open the doors to Mason brethren and their guests only, and throw the main power switch to ignite approximately fifty-one-hundred lights."
Something in Damali's brain also ignited with the mention of the lights, and she glanced in the guide's direction and made eye contact. His expression seemed to say,not now, but later .
"The interior of the main doors are guarded by two hand-cast, brass Sphinxes, and as you will look up to the center arch, there are symbols of the zodiac, and symbols from all major world religions. But," her guide continued, "we want to draw your attention to the cornerstone of the building, which was laid around the same time as that of City Hall's, and the old John Wanamaker Building, forming a powerful architectural triangulation of spectacular construction. In addition, the cornerstone in this building seals off our Masonic time capsule, buried in a vault under this structure. Unfortunately, some years ago the original one was cracked and damaged when the subway lines were installed under Broad Street."
"And the seal was broken. They put a thirty-one-foot concrete wall in front of it, for the subway, but the original cornerstone seal was broken," Damali murmured, finishing the man's sentence and drawing his undivided attention.
"Absolutely correct!" the blue uniformed man shouted merrily, his voice echoing in the vast marble halls. "In that day, they tried to use X-ray technology to avoid hitting our cornerstone, but, alas, there's nothing like those old artisans. I must